


Lost in Fiction

by Kye_Kreole



Series: Olivarry Week 2017 [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Books, M/M, Memory Loss, Olivarry Week 2017, boys bonding and falling in love because of books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kye_Kreole/pseuds/Kye_Kreole
Summary: Books may not bring back memories, but they can help create new ones.Olivarry Week Day 2





	Lost in Fiction

Barry walked among the shelves of his school’s library, running his hands over the spines of the books. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to read; fantasy, sci-fi, biography, academic journal? He didn’t care really, he just wanted something to read over the weekend.

He usually wanders through the library on Friday’s during the lunch break. Iris was usually busy finalizing some story for the school paper, Cisco was with the Robotics Club, and Caitlin was with Ronnie in the Biology Club.

So, Barry wandered the library.

He rounded a corner into the fantasy section and stopped at the sight that awaited him.

Oliver Queen was squinting at the titles in front of him. Oliver Queen was in the library. Oliver Queen was willingly in the library.

Although that wasn’t fair, considering what had happened a few months prior.

Oliver and his father, Robert Queen, had been in a car accident. Robert Queen had died instantly, but Oliver had survived. Broken bones and head trauma had taken months to heal. The thing that no one had been expecting was the memory loss.

Oliver hadn’t been able to remember anything before waking in the hospital with his mother and sister hovering over his body. He seemed to be alright, still could speak coherently, could move his limbs if a little stiffly, even understood basic concepts like mother, tree, house, etc. He just couldn’t remember who his mother was, couldn’t remember climbing trees as a kid, couldn’t remember living in his house.

The Queen’s had persevered through the tragedy of Robert’s death and tried to help Oliver reconnect to his place in the world.

When Oliver had finally returned to school at his own insistence, it had been a grand celebration in the halls. Oliver was popular, and his friends were there waiting with open arms, and wary eyes, trying to keep people from pretending to be his “best friends.”

And now a week later and Barry was staring at Oliver Queen in the library looking at fantasy books like he was trying to decide what he wanted to read.

Oliver’s gaze caught Barry staring. Barry ducked his head, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

“Sorry, I-” they both started. They cut themselves off and the silence became awkward.

“Am I in your way?” Oliver questioned, looking intently at Barry. Barry’s eyes lifted and looked at looked into those bright blue eyes.

“No,” Barry answered. “I was just surprised to see-” he stopped himself from finishing that sentence. Chastising himself, he just turned to look at the shelf to his right.

“Surprised to see Oliver Queen here?” the blond boy guessed. Accurately.

Barry looked at him, mouth opening to offer an apology, but Oliver waved it off.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I’ve been getting that kind of reaction for a month now.” He sighed and returned looking at the shelves again. Barry glanced over to where Oliver was looking. He saw Oliver’s hand reach up towards a particular book.

“No,” Barry stated, reaching up to stop Oliver’s hand. He grabbed the blond boy’s wrist before he could grab the book. “Do not subject yourself to that.”

“Why not?”

“You think Shakespeare’s hard to understand and long-winded? You don’t even know.”

Oliver looked at him in confusion. “Everyone on the internet says _these_ ,” pointing with the hand still grasped by Barry, “are a must read for anyone interested in fantasy.”

“The internet,” Barry countered, gently pulling Oliver’s hand away from the shelf, “is so far up Tolkien’s ass that they think _Lord of the Rings_ is a must read.”

Oliver’s face was still riddled with confusion. Barry released his hand as he moved down the shelves searching.

“Aha!” he quietly exclaimed, pulling the paperback out. “Now this, is a must read for fantasy readers.” He handed the book to Oliver. “Not as long winded, and world-building that is comparable to Tolkien.”

Oliver read the title “ _Dragon Wing, Volume 1_ of the _Death Gate Cycle_.” Oliver looked up at Barry, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Barry repeated emphatically. “The beginning is a little slow, but once you understand the world-building, it picks up pretty quickly.”

Oliver looked back down at the book, turning it in his hands.

“At least there’s dragons,” he muses, running his thumb over the front cover illustration.

Barry chuckled at that and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, at least there’s dragons.”

A smirk worked its way onto Oliver’s face, looking at the lanky boy from head to toe.

“Thanks,” he said, holding up the book while stepping backwards.

“You’re welcome,” Barry responded, watching Oliver’s retreat. “Let me know what you think.”

“Will do.” Oliver turned to go, but hesitated, and turned back. “I’m so stupid, what’s your name?”

Barry blinked in shock. He hadn’t realized his name hadn’t come up.

“Barry Allen.”

“Barry,” Oliver repeated, looking Barry up and down again before repeating his thanks and turned to walk to the checkout desk.

~

Barry didn’t really see Oliver until the next Friday during lunch. Barry was hoping he would catch the blond boy, but didn’t admit it to himself. Iris had teased him when he had told her about it. Of course, everyone knew about Oliver, and plenty of people thought he was attractive (Barry included), but Iris loved talking about how hot Oliver was with Barry even in front of her boyfriend, Eddie (who kind of looked like Oliver a little bit, huh?).

Teasing aside, Barry really wanted to know what Oliver had thought about the book.

Barry searched the library, trying to see the boy, finally finding him in the fantasy section, crouching to see the other books in the series.

“Finished already?” Barry smiled down at the other boy and leaned against the shelves.

Beautiful blue eyes looked up, smiling just as bright as his lips.

“Slow going but did make it through,” Oliver replied, standing up. “Footnotes did help with world-building.”

“They do, don’t they?” Barry mused, head tilting to consider the blond boy. “What did you think?”

“Hugh was annoying. Cool, but annoying.”

“He’s a little thick in the head.”

Oliver laughed, hands slipping into his pockets. He looked up at Barry through his eye lashes, and Barry couldn’t stop the fluttering in his stomach. “What else?”

Oliver looked at the shelves, gathering his thoughts. “Alfred and Haplo were sketchy, but Haplo did seem interesting enough.”

“Yeah, he’s important,” Barry teased. Crouching, he grabbed the second book from the shelf. Standing up, he came face to face with those eyes. So, blue, like the sky on a summer’s day, but even brighter, like the sun was suddenly blue.

The fluttering returned as they stared at each other, suddenly reminding Barry what he had been doing. He swallowed, and took a step back, holding the book in front of him. The illustration containing a blue that seemed dull compared to those eyes.

“Book two,” Barry stuttered out. “An easier read than the first.”

Oliver grabbed it, his index finger touching Barry’s as he slid it out of the brunette’s hand.

Were those butterflies or moths fluttering?

“Can’t wait,” Oliver replied.

~

They continued like this. Meeting in the library on Friday’s talking about the books. After the third book, Oliver had the sense to get Barry’s phone number so that he could text the other boy as he read.

_Oliver: What is up with the dog??_

_Barry: Excellent question :)_

_Oliver: Ugh_

_Oliver: Wait. It wasn’t really the princess?_

_Oliver: It wasn’t the princess?_

_Oliver: Where is the elf princess???_

_Oliver: Xar is a dick, but so are the Sartans._

_Oliver: like every single one of them have some sorta God Complex_

_Oliver: Except Alfred. He’s cool._

 

Barry looked forward to getting the texts every day. He had to start hiding his phone from Iris when they would hang out, because she would Oliver’s name pop up and they would have to wrestle for the phone. She won, but she would just scroll through the texts and instantly get confused about the seemingly random ramblings about dogs, flying ships, dwarves, and much more.

He didn’t keep Oliver a secret from Iris, he just didn’t elaborate on the conversations they would have. The teasing never ended, but, for now, she didn’t press for details.

Oliver was a surprisingly fast reader, pushing through the seven novels in a month. As the texts got closer to the end, Barry worried that their talking would to. He liked meeting up with Oliver at school to just talk. Most of the time, they talked about the books, but other stuff would come up.

Oliver liked asking Barry questions about his childhood. Stories about his parents, or his adventures with Iris, or the never-ending exploits of Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry. Every story he told, Barry wanted to ask for similar ones, but before the question would form, he would remember that Oliver _doesn’t_ remember.

Barry really didn’t want to stop talking with Oliver. He scanned his personal bookshelf, hoping something would jump out at him.

He smiled when something did.

~

“Like it’s not really an ending, but the story is resolved,” Oliver rambled. They sat side by side at one of the tables in the library, Oliver’s hand gesturing for emphasis. “Was that on purpose? Were they trying to convey a message?”

“I think they’re trying to say that this story ended but their lives are still going and the war will still go on even if enemies do align.”

They talk more about the characters and the story, and lamenting the fact there wouldn’t be more to the story. Just before the bell rang to signal the next period, Barry pulled the two books from his bag.

“So, since you finished those, I figured I would recommend some more books to you.” Barry handed the novels over. Oliver looked at the covers.

“ _Shardwell_ , _The Phoenix Angel_ and _The Guardian of Time_ ,” he mumbled turning the books over.

“They’re books from Amazon,” Barry explained. “The authors self-published them there, and I was just looking for some good books. I couldn’t stop reading them, and I figured you might like them too.”

Oliver looked up at Barry and smiled, bringing the return of the flutters in Barry’s stomach.

“If you like them,” Oliver said, “then I’m sure I’ll like them too.”

~

A week later, Barry sat in the library, waiting for Oliver to come. Oliver had texted him during the week like he normally did, but towards the end, the texts were less stream of thought and more just one worded commentary.

Barry stared at the door, not wanting to miss when Oliver came in. When he did, Barry released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Oliver smiled at him but it didn’t reach his eyes. Barry couldn’t tell if he was sad or just deep in thought.

“Hey,” Barry greeted while Oliver pulled the books out of his bag. “What did you think?”

Oliver looked down at the book he was holding, _The Guardian of Time_ , looking like it would tell him what he wanted to say.

“Esilwen,” the blond boy started, then stopped as he thought some more.

Barry had an idea where this was going to go, but he didn’t want to force Oliver to say anything or even presume what he wanted to say.

“She…” Oliver started again. “I connected with her. A lot. The way she handled not remembering who she was, and how Margariete helped her… it just reminded me of… me… and you.”

Oliver looked up at Barry, and the flutters returned.

“It’s been so frustrating,” Oliver continued, looking Barry right in the eyes, “not remembering Christmases, or Thea’s last birthday, or my mom’s favorite color, or anything about my dad… and Tommy and Laurel help connect the dots where they can, but I don’t remember the person they’re trying to help me be. But you… you didn’t try that, you just helped me do something now, in the present. If I liked reading before, I don’t know, but you just let me like it now. You didn’t care who I was. You just let me be who I am.”

The flutters hadn’t stopped. It didn’t help that Oliver looked at him with such intense focus, making sure he heard every word. If the flutters were any indication, he had heard every word.

Before Barry could respond, Oliver started leaning in to Barry’s space. The butterflies had left and were replaced with bats. Barry didn’t know what to do. He had kissed a girl before, but that had been just a peck and they had mutually broken up not long after. He felt himself lean into Oliver and closed his eyes as they connected.

It definitely wasn’t a peck, but not a make out either. They just kissed each other. It said so much more than words could. Oliver was thanking him, showing how much the last few weeks had meant to him. Barry was telling him how much it meant to him too, and how he hoped they could continue. All in one small, chaste kiss.

As they pulled away, Barry kept his eyes closed for a moment longer. When he opened them, those bright blue eyes stared right into him.

“Thank you,” Oliver whispered.

“Thank you,” Barry returned.

**Author's Note:**

> The books mentioned here are real and they're a couple of my favorite series ever.


End file.
